Settling into the darkest corner of his mind
I feel shrouded in it’s pressure rising over me,
Lost in the rape of certainty, I wonder
Deeper into an illustration of a time,
Utopian in my sight,
Empty upon touch, but struck me
Like the vipered apple,
A delicious burst, before it’s rupture,
One last breath, and I’ve sunk
To the bottom, forgotten.
©DorianPoe 2015
As I nestle inside the chapters
I’m transported, to the depths of the pages,
Sitting, beside the characters in dispute
Knives drawn, seeing the mystery solved
Right in front of me,
I’m there, amongst all the words
Pressed and read a million times,
And as the final chapter ends,
Where the character I have followed
From the prologue, to their tragic end,
Shutting the book, opens reality,
As I search for my next literary escape.
©DorianPoe 2015
Riddles infest my burdened, insomniatic mind
Watching, the fly upon my wall, how bored
It must be, peering down at a dented bed,
Then wondering, why not find a more appealing scene,
Am I that entertaining, swimming in misery
Of the mocking tick coming from my bedside clock,
There goes another hour, debating the shit eater,
And just like previous night’s, I’m consumed
By the deep labyrinths that I, trapped myself in,
Until, there came a knock upon my door,
Not the front, but my chamber door,
Despite its haunting peculiarality, I opened it
Finding only an empty hallway, dark and cold,
Silence echoes through, this eerie vacant hall
With my heavy breath fogging my surroundings,
Chilled whispers reach out for me from behind,
I back in, to my chamber seeking for what has crept
Through my gates, and into my unrest,
I feel my entire body, tense up from a horrid chill
Pulsing me up against the far wall,
And then, it appeared to me, in the mist of my breath,
My floating demon, keeping me from dreamscape,
Jumped, into my chaos within, amplifying it,
Until I imploded, forever asleep.
What is normal to the fly,
Is chaos for the spider.
©DorianPoe 2015
In a room, kept locked, by a serpent,
There visits, a tormented girl,
She puddles the emptiness
That keeps her in, echoing her pain
Into cup of her own hands.
Ran away years ago, into stranger waters
And swam out into the middle,
Wandered into her own abyss and found
This room, at the bottom of the shattered sea,
Abandoned, except for her fear,
Perched on the wall, screaming at her,
Keeping the shadow at the stalk,
A silent stampede raging toward her
As she continues to drown, on the tile
Swallowing words that swim in her head,
Hunted in the low light of her clouded mind,
Slowly closing the scope, making the room
Smaller, tighter and closer to her fear,
While she hides in her hollowed hands
Catching the dread pouring out,
At the same time, the lurking evil
Penetrates beneath her skull, letting in
The gushing tide, that suffocates her,
Laughing from it’s safe haven, enjoying
As she slips into the bleak, beneath the surface.
©DorianPoe 2015
A constant chill, rushes through
These bodies, deserted channels
Haunted, by a love, buried from sight,
Their whispers are forgotten pieces
Of a rich history, bled out,
Dried up, in the destruction of the wasteland,
No sun to warm the two, wrapped
In each other, their blanket arms
Lost in the bitter bite,
Still, a smile under dust
Outlines the fading ledge of the earth,
Distant from life, but firm grasp
Kept, throughout the decay around them,
Even when blown away, they grow back
For they are rooted, in love.
©DorianPoe 2015
The curtain is kept drawn, with Darkness
Peeking through slits, stealing Glimpses of the estranged, riding
The swaying chair, carved by suicide thoughts.
Beats upon the chest,
Thumping echo of the final drip
Caught still, while clenched eyes
Fear to open.
Panic in the cold morning,
When death becomes lucid
And less haunting, instead
Of uncertainty, you’re captured
In the spill into the everlasting moment
When we find ourselves lost.
©DorianPoe 2015
As the light flickers, in the distance
A bitter flower blossoms within
The chocked heart’s rumble,
Suffocated throat in a noose, eats
Me whole, while wilting
From the haunted howl
In an underground garden, buried
Beneath my death, is the rising growth,
Wrapping up and through, swallowing
Whole are the twisted vines,
Thorn covered, scraping death off
The walls of my vanishing gullet,
Anchoring itself
Barricading, against the invasion
Of the slithering decay, looking
For its next meal,
Drugged, from an unsuspected bite,
Pulling me into the kaleidoscope
In the roots of this underground garden,
Lost, myself to its hold,
I’m swallowed whole.
©DorianPoe 2015
Who are you?
What do you feel within, burning
At your chest,
Branded from the stalking voice
Parading in parts of you, undiscovered,
You don’t decide, you are the evil
That was before you,
Seen in the shadows of past,
Or good, shining through armour
But, are you too afraid
To show your valor?
Hoping for a different twist in the story.
©DorianPoe 2015
She came, crashing in through my barricades,
Burning words inside my mind
And unleashing, the dormant hand
Upon the open canvas, where I spilled
Her blood, pouring from out her veins
All that was there, beyond my blind touch
And then, she vanished into the sleeping willow
As I wait for her, to grace her wing
Upon my vacant brow,
And I’ll sit by the open windows
Bearing my heart, to the winds of her soar.
©DorianPoe 2015
I’m consumed by the wreckage
In it’s reflection, tarnished,
From my rooted hold, over many laps
Of lives around me, I live with
Knowledge, to which I stare far into,
Dried on years and cracks, overrun
As I glaze back into the handheld void,
Imprisoned in my own grasp, holding on
To what looks back, showing the disgust
Of what I am now, from what I’ve done,
Cursed in the nightmare that stalls
My death, my escape from this skin,
I’ve corrupted the dirty,
Spun the weak webbed bridge
For it only to collapse, in the sway
From my sigh, repeating in vivid picture
Where I sit, holding my damnation,
Dry desert plains blanket my face,
Cracks, swallowing the men, who’s
Legs, I’ve broken into staying,
Now dread my sweet siren song,
For my past is projected
By the mirror, clasped firmly by me,
It has become my enemy, Demon
Crested, and worn
In my tormented hypnosis.
©DorianPoe 2015
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